


Valentine Tattoo

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Tattoos, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9802016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Stiles is waiting for Peter to come home. And he does with special presents.This is fluff, pure fluff and kinda late for Valentine's, but hey, it's been a week.





	

Stiles isn’t sure what he expected. After all, he and Peter had been together for almost ten years now. Ten good years, in his opinion.

Peter had pursued him, somehow managing to ‘just run into him’ at college and please. He just happened to be in DC and just happened to get coffee at Stiles’ favorite coffee shop? Of all the people he thought he might run into, Peter was at the bottom of the list. But away from home, Peter slowly courted him, with dinners and coffee and his special brand of snark and smarts and how could Stiles refuse that combination.

And now it’s ten years later and it’s Valentine’s Day and where is his boyfriend? Equally important, where is his card and maybe chocolates and flowers. Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get spoiled, does it?

Maybe ten years is too long to Peter? After all, Stiles will be 30 on his next birthday in a few months. Thirty? How the fuck did that happen? And Peter has barely aged at all, he still looks the same, he still looks like a hot daddy. Maybe that’s the problem – maybe Stiles is getting too old for Peter? Peter did flirt with him while he was in high school, maybe he only liked him when he was a twink or twinkish. Maybe that’s why he’s not around on Valentine’s Day and maybe he’s out scouting someone new and maybe…

“Stiles, what’s wrong, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?” Peter turns Stiles towards him, checking him up and down, looking and sniffing for any injury. “What happened, I could smell you out in the hallway. Talk to me, please.”

“Oh, you’re here,” Stiles gasps and throws his arms around Peter. “I’m fine, I’m sorry, I was just having a moment of insecurity.”

“Why?” Peter asks, pushing Stiles’ hair off his face and scenting him at the same time. “What happened?”

“It’s not important, Peter,” Stiles answers, burying his face in Peter’s shoulder. “Just a stupid thought about my advanced age.”

Peter snorts and kisses Stiles’ head then whispers, “Silly boy. Well when you’re over that, I can show you where I’ve been for the last few hours.”

“Sure!” Stiles says, pulling away. Then he notices the bouquet of flowers on the table and beams at Peter. “You remembered! I thought maybe you forgot what day it is!”

“Never,” Peter says, looking through one of the kitchen cabinets for a vase. “Is that what you were upset about? Did you think I forgot? Because I have another present.”

“Another present? Okay, I’m ready, lay it on me. Chocolates?”

“No, sorry, nothing to eat.” Peter rolls up the sleeve of his t-shirt and says, “Well, maybe.”

On his arm is a new tattoo that says “Stiles” in beautiful script lettering.

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, taking hold of Peter’s arm and turning it so he can study his name, permanently on his mate. He ghosts a finger over it, not quite touching it and says, “Does it hurt? I mean did it hurt? It must have hurt, how did you do that?”

“I had a stencil made out of iron and then had this put on. And I was happy to use your nickname rather than your real one.” Peter looks at his arm and says, “Our alpha enjoys using a blow torch. Perhaps a bit too much.”

“Derek did it for you? God, that must have hurt.” Stiles pulls Peter into the living room, and pushes him gently on the couch. “Did it take long?”

“Long enough,” Peter drawls. “And Derek was not helpful. He kept saying things like, ‘I’ve never had so much fun.’ And ‘This might be my favorite day ever.’”

“He is an ass, but it looks so nice. It’s healed and this is it?” Stiles asks. He touches everywhere around it, avoiding the actual tattoo itself.

“You can touch it, it’s healed.”

Peter watches as Stiles gently runs his fingers over his name. “I like it. I can’t believe you did that, with the blow torch and the… well, the fire.”

He shrugs and kisses the top of Stiles’ head as he’s bent over looking at the tattoo on his bicep. “At this point, I’ve been on fire how many times? I can’t say I’ve learned to enjoy it, but is it possible to say that I’m used to it?”

“Oh god, that’s horrible in itself.” Stiles kisses Peter’s arm, just above his name and says, “But I like it, thank you. I got some champagne and your favorite scotch, complete with a kick. Do you want a glass?”

“That sounds good, we can save the champagne for brunch this weekend.” He moves to the sofa, looking over his shoulder, watching Stiles pour two glasses of the Chivas he bought and doctored earlier. “I do have the stencil, but I left it in the car. It needs a bit of cleaning up; there’s burn marks on it of course and also, I didn’t really take into consideration how hot the metal would get, so there’s a bit of skin that needs to be cleaned up on the other side.”

“Oh my god, it would… oh my god, the metal burned your arm, too?” Stiles asks, looking at Peter’s arm again. “It looks okay, but I’d think that would hurt, too.”

“Yes, of course. It was… it wasn’t totally pleasant, but really not a big deal. Not for the final results.” He watches as Stiles rubs the new tattoo again and gives his arm a gentle kiss. “Of course Derek thought that was funny, too.  He’s really way too anxious to do this again. He suggested putting a date underneath it. Either your birthday, or the day we met or something like that.”

“Hmm, I think this is fine, please don’t do anything more with a blow torch. I love it and I’m flattered and amazed and I love you,” Stiles says, peppering Peter’s face with kisses.

Peter catches Stiles’ chin and kisses him, his hand reaching around to scratch at the back of his head, making Stiles moan into his mouth. “I love you, too, obviously. And I told Derek the only date I’d consider would be our wedding date.”

“Our…” Stiles pulls back and looks at Peter. “Our wedding date? Peter Hale, are you asking me to marry you?”

He shrugs and smiles. “I am. If you’re interested, that is.”

“Interested? Maybe. Do you have a ring, I think a ring is pretty traditional,” Stiles says, grinning back, wondering why he ever doubted this man.

“Let’s see.” Peter sits up and digs into his pocket. “How about this, will this work?” he asks and hands Stiles a shiny silver band.

“Oh my god again. Are you kidding me?” He jumps on top of Peter, straddling his legs. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? You’re horrid.”

Peter grabs around Stiles’ waist and easily pushes him down on the couch, lying on top of him. “Thank you, darling, and is that a yes?”

“Yes, that’s a yes. Now your options are to fuck me here or fuck me in the bedroom. Your choice, you had a busy day already,” Stiles answers, looking at the ring on his hand, a wedding ring from his partner and best friend and actual fiancé.

“Can’t we do both?” Peter asks, moving off enough so he can start tugging off Stiles’ shirt.

“Absolutely.” Stiles pulls Peter’s shirt off, smiling at his mussed hair. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my wolf.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

                                                   


End file.
